It was the miracle God had wrought. And it was patently the sort of thing that could only happen once. Mechanically uncanny, it was like nothing that had ever come to the world before. Flourishing industries rose and fell with it. As a vehicle, it was hard working, commonplace, heroic; and it often seemed to transmit those qualities to the persons who rode it. My own generation identifies it with Youth, with its gaudy, irretrievable excitements; before it fades into the mist, I would like to pay it the tribute of the sigh that is not a sob, and set down random entries in a shape somewhat less cumbersome than a Sears Roebuck catalogue.

E.B. White

That from the essay Farewell, My Lovely!

I’d argue the miracle is happening twice. Watch this space.

Also, can you imagine living in an age where the 1909 Model T Ford was a symbol of Youth?

White, E. B.. Essays of E. B. White. United States, HarperCollins, 2014. pg 202